LET THERE BE FLOWERS

September 2023 /Santie Gouws

Namaqualand & Cederberg, Western Cape, South Africa

Weary from six relentless laborious days

 - lying down in a meadow - 

a chorus of frogs lulled him to sleep.

Startled by the silence of the night

 - drifting galaxies distant - 

he fell back into slumber,

the firm earth beneath.

Awakened by a bird's song

 - morning star against orange sky - 

his sun slowly rose.

Three times a cock crowed,

triumphantly announcing

the seventh day.

Hungry, alone

 - he could not resist -

the ripe, red offering.

She'd adorned herself with beads of shell,

dark eyes reflecting oceans,

created only yesterday.

Overwhelmed, ashamed,

he turned away

 - a snake hissing.

Crucified, his heart cried out:

let there be flowers!

- good and bad - 

flowers, fucking flowers.

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